Motel Room Games
by Skye10
Summary: Season 7: Meg is still lying low from Crowley but Castiel has helped her discover a way to pass the time. Meanwhile Dean keeps asking why their hotel rooms smell like sulphur and hamburgers but Sam's more concerned about the stains on his sheets…


**_Tumblr Anon Prompt 1: All through season seven, Meg and Cas are having sex in the Winchesters' hotel room when they're out- that's what Cas meant by 'lying low'. Dean keeps asking why their hotel rooms smell like sulphur and hamburgers but Sam's more concerned about the stains on his sheets…_**

**_Tumblr Anon Prompt 2: Cas wants to win a game for once_**

**Rating: NC-17 (kids… sexytimes are included. ). Shameless one shot with no real plot for the sake of smut. S7 base, Cas is still a bit loony and Meg is still a little attached.**

_I Cheated… I got 2 prompts and they worked so perfectly together that I twisted them. Don't judge me based on my weakness._

* * *

**Motel Room Games**

As wings fluttered in the air, Dean looked to his left and carefully watched Castiel's approach. The angel looked so… relaxed and uncaring that his fellow angels had taken off with Kevin and Dean wondered if it was sincere. He doubted he would be able to tell. It had been a long week so far and guessing what everyone's motives were was starting to get old.

Especially the motives of a demon who he would have loved to tear to shreds a year ago. But she'd disappeared after helping Castiel to his feet, not that it had been hard for her to escape since they'd all been distracted by Kevin's translation. There wasn't even a whisk of smoke or smell of sulphur to be left behind to show she had even existed in the room. She'd simply taken her stolen angel blade, still dripping with Hester's blood, and smoked out. Dean had been too worried about learning the weapon to destroy the Leviathan to wonder where she'd gone.

But looking at Castiel, he wondered if maybe the angel would be concerned. He'd been acting strange around her since the hospital.

"I couldn't find Meg anywhere," he started and Castiel smiled absently at the ground.

"Yes, well, she enjoys laying low." There was a faint, amused glint in his eyes when their eyes met. It was as if he was thinking of some private joke that no one else would get. Dean stared at him and thought about asking him how he knew but Sam was flipping through Kevin's pages. But he knew he'd have to find out how attached Castiel had become to Meg before it caused them any problems in the future.

* * *

It was several weeks later that Dean wondered if they were being cursed. Or hexed. Or even having a damn poltergeist around. It just seemed like every motel they went to had the same problems and he was starting to get worried that it wasn't just Leviathan they were dealing with.

They'd find a highway motel, the usual one or two star crap-holes, put their stuff down and leave for a bite to eat. The room would be in perfect order when they left but when they came back, things would be broken. A picture frame cracked or the bathroom faucets almost torn off the ceramic, and even one time the entire mattress had been tossed off the bed. The room would feel like a furnace and he'd think about accusing Sam of not turning on the AC. His brother never forgot things like that though and the AC would almost always be on.

The odours were always the same as well. The heat of the room made the trace of sulphur in the air intense and an odd smell of a greasy diner hamburger would permeate through the closed room, seeming to soak into the wood walls and drapes. No matter how much they cranked the AC or opened the windows, it never left.

The seventh time it happened, he finally had enough to really mention it to Sam. "Jesus, what the hell is that? Can you smell it?" he asked, wiping at his nose. His brother shrugged.

"I thought maybe it was you again."

"Thanks, Sammy. 'Cause you smell like a bed of roses."

Sam was pulling the bed sheets back from his bed and he groaned when he touched the middle of the bed. "Not again."

"What? Wet your bed already?"

"Funny but no. They're sticky again."

Dean frowned. "Sticky?"

"I think it's the usual motel bed sheets thing. I'm sleeping on the floor. Last time it felt like I was lying in…" he stopped when Dean gave him a look. "Never mind."

"We're going to have to have an exorcism soon." Dean sneezed. "Least to get rid of the smell."

* * *

It was a day later and a hundred miles away that Sam tried to call whatever spirit was haunting their motel rooms. Dean watched from the door and waited patiently with a packet of salt and a knife. But when nothing happened, Sam threw the bowl down hard on the table and watched the blood and bones scatter. The room was clean as any he'd been in before and they both had done a very thorough investigation and warding against ghosts. There was just no sign that it was a ghost or a demon.

"Look, if it happens again, we'll see if we can get hold of Cas. I still have his new number you know. Maybe he's got angel insight on this one," Dean said from where he leaned against the door. Sam shook his head.

"I thought I had it right but maybe I did something wrong."

Dean shrugged. "Looked right to me. There's a chance we'll get lucky and maybe it won't happen again. We're a state away from Montana now. What's going to follow us that far?"

"Fair enough. But I swear to God, I am not sleeping in sticky sheets again," Sam said and he looked around the room. His stomach rumbled loudly and Dean snickered.

"Coffee and eggs?" Dean offered and his brother made a face. "Gotta eat sometime, Sammy."

"As long as it's not hamburgers, right?" Sam asked slyly. The smell didn't bother him so much but Dean made a face at the mention of hamburgers.

"I don't want to smell another one for months. Let's go before some spirit shows up and sprays us with rotten hamburger juice."

As he slammed the door and locked it, Sam shrugged. "I think you're confusing skunks and ghosts, Dean."

"Bad smells, never around when it happens? I thought I was confusing it for you."

Caught up in trying to out-insult each other, neither Winchester noticed how the sky darkened a little and lightening creased the sky for just a flash. A light drizzle started to fall and they sprinted for the truck, racing like teenagers to get in the driver's seat.

* * *

He rapped on the door, feeling vaguely ridiculous standing in the rain while carrying a White Castle bag and a package of honey. He could just zap into the room, what was the point of knocking if the Winchesters weren't likely even there? Still, it was good to check. He didn't like being caught mid-game. It was the equivalent of cheating in their rules and he had never been accused of that.

Satisfied that no one was about to spring out at him, Castiel zapped himself inside and looked around the dark room. With a snap of his fingers he turned on the lamp and decided to turn off the AC again as well. As he slid over to the radiator, he could see Sam's attempted summoning on the table and smiled fondly as he set the bags down beside the bowl.

Humans.

It wasn't the spell that had brought him though and he blinked at the darkness still hiding parts of the room from normal sight.

"Are you here?" he called out and only silence answered him. He thought about unwrapping a burger and waiting at the table. It wasn't as if the angel needed to eat but he found that the action relaxed him and it made him feel normal. The mindless chewing of the tough meat actually calmed his head and his guilty conscience.

After a moment of staring at the shadowy beds, he took a few steps in and waited. There was soft scuffle to his left and he turned to look. He only saw his own reflection in the dresser mirror staring back at him and Castiel took a closer look. He looked a little rough, his vessel appeared scruffier and he still wore his hospital clothes under his trench coat. But he liked this look. So much simpler, not as many bits and pieces and they were comfy.

There was another sound, like a footstep and he waited until it passed him before turning. Nothing but empty air.

This was new.

He was about to use his power to turn on the rest of the lights when something tiny and strong suddenly leapt onto his back and wrapped around him like a boa constrictor. Grunting in surprise, he twisted but the slender body clung to him easily. When Castiel turned again, something sharp pricked his neck and he froze as quick as he could when he felt the heat coming from that blade. He knew that Angel Sword as well as he knew his own vessel, maybe just a bit better than he knew the fingers curling in his hair.

The blade stroked his neck gently, curving around his collar, and he felt the slender fingers gripping his hair yank a bit harder. The touch was mildly threatening but he didn't even think of attacking. His body relaxed and he rolled his eyes to the ceiling while a voice whispered in his ear,

"Oh Clarence, you are rusty. That was too easy."

She did like this game, Castiel thought, but it was fun for him to play. He liked games like this.

"Maybe. Or maybe you're just overconfident."

"Mm-mm-mm, I dunno…" Meg hitched her legs tighter around his waist and he felt the leather of her boots dig into his abdomen where his shirt had ridden up. "I think I've ridden tougher ponies than you, featherbrain."

He felt her mouth curve into a smile against his ear and the Angel Sword at his neck slid down his chest seductively. He looked around the pristine room thoughtfully and tried to ignore the hot breath in his ear.

"If we're going to play the game rough again, shouldn't we play it in a different area?" Castiel took a few steps with her still clinging to his back and tilted his head. "I feel bad destroying their rooms."

Meg laughed darkly in his ear.

"No, you don't. And we both know that I love to do it. Tormenting them is practically Christmas gifts for a girl like me. It's keeping your boys on their toes because I just know that they are thinking poltergeist." Her lips trailed against his ear. "But if you want, I can go and leave you to wait for them to come back."

That wouldn't do. It would mean the game was over.

With a move a wrestler would envy, he dropped his hands to her wrapped legs and wrenched them apart just enough for him to twist around in her grip. She yelped in surprise and slid down him, the knife tracking dangerously down his front. Castiel stared down at her before he grabbed the blade from her and threw it with deadly accuracy into one of the headboards. It shook the moment it hit the wood and he almost felt terrible about mistreating it so.

Impressed, Meg arched a dark brow and then smirked up at him.

"Missed you too, Clarence." She tapped her fingers against his forearm. It felt like tiny spiders were climbing up his arm. "It's been awful lonely, this lying low business."

"It probably is," he admitted. "I like our visits."

Something darkened in her gaze. "Shut up."

"I forgot. You dislike my affections."

"Misguided and cute as they are, yeah. I'm still a demon, sweetness." She plucked at his coat buttons and he shrugged.

"I'm still an angel. Aren't you misguided for letting it get this far then?" Castiel countered. He ran his hand down her arm, discreetly checking her for any wounds and knowing she hated it whenever he tried. Meg glared up at him.

"You are such a typical male. I bet if the boys find out, you'll claim I tied you up and jumped on you."

"You did do that once though, even if I was able to break free easily. Four days ago," he said, confused and she rolled her eyes.

"I'm being sarcastic, Clarence. It means you'll blame me for all of it."

Castiel shook his head. "No. I take mutual blame. We're experimenting with something unusual. I would think that any guilt we had would be mostly on me, as you're a demon and guilt isn't something you would feel as strongly."

She shrugged, not insulted. "Fair enough."

"If it actually is bothering you, we can play Yahtzee. I like Yahtzee."

"We need to work on your flirting, Cas-tee-el."

The way she drawled his name put his body on high alert fast. It was, as she joked, like Pavlov's dog. Ring a bell and the drool starts. Or in his case, roll his name over her tongue and he went into 'angel-wants-sex' mode. Meg had learned that from the very first time they'd played their game. Neither took his automatic response too seriously; for her sex was sex and for Castiel it was pure fun and he could experiment on a creature he wouldn't kill with his supernatural strength.

At least… she assumed that's how he felt.

Smirking like a pleased child, Meg swivelled around him like a dancer pirouetting before she bounced on the bed and flicked on the TV. She threw off her jacket and fluffed her dark hair around her shoulders. Watching her, Castiel couldn't help but be a bit confused. What was she up to?

Knowing that he was staring at her, she simply rolled to her stomach and channel-hopped. As she found the higher, fuzzier channels, she grinned and finally looked up at him.

"Well? Are you expecting something to just happen?" she asked and he shrugged. "Because I don't have all day, feathers."

"So that's a no to Yahtzee?" he countered, tilting his head at her as he approached the bed. She waved the remote at him.

"Whatever floats your boat but I don't do the arm flapping, screeching 'Yahtzee' thing easily." Her grin became lewd even though she was watching a news report now. "In case you haven't noticed."

Her eyes were almost delighted as she watched a story about a burning bridge trapping several people.

Castiel watched her, seeing that she was restless. Months in hiding would do that to her, he figured, and she had seemed edgier the longer he stayed near her. Space didn't work though; he was attached to his little caretaker. So he decided to humour her by being the one to push things along this time.

"So this is to be just a chat session?" Meg asked in her usual bored tone and her lower lip jutted out. "Cause I have to say, I have better conversations talking to mothballs."

Stopping in front of her, Castiel undid his coat and threw it on the bed beside her. She rolled her eyes up at him, her feet kicking in the air till they touched her own thighs, and ran her eyes over him. Castiel looked down at her, getting very aware that she was on perfect level with his hips. The demon looked at him, the curve of her lips as sharp as a knife, and he stared down at her as if he could see something fascinating in that razor grin. But she didn't move toward him.

"Got somethin' in mind there, Cas? I'm all shivery just seeing you strip out of your coat," she drawled, eyebrows arching. Castiel licked his lower lip nervously.

"Instigating is something I don't know how to do in this sort of game."

"Well." She rolled over on her back, looking at him upside down. She looked remarkably innocent in that pose and he wasn't fooled by it. But it was part of her game; to make him really underestimate her. "You might want to hurry up. The boys will be back soon."

Licking his lower lip again, Castiel stepped closer to the bed so his thighs nudged the crown of her dark hair and leaned over. She stared up at him curiously and he gently put his hands on her waist, drawing her shirt towards her breasts. The silk was tight enough that it didn't go far but still exposed the scarred skin on her abdomen. The flesh there was still glossy and puckered, a sign of vulnerability in a demon who tried so hard not to be anything but strength personified. Resting his knees on the bed, he dropped his head to her stomach and pressed a chaste kiss against her skin.

Meg squirmed a little and he felt her fingers suddenly brushing over his hipbones, scorching him through the cotton. Sighing, Castiel lowered himself as far as he could without crushing her and started to draw patterns on her stomach with his tongue. She shifted underneath him and he felt her muscles jump as he traced the curve of her belly. He was focussed on drawing a bee when her nails dragged against his sensitive skin and he jumped, feeling goose-bumps go up his skin. Meg had tried to explain those once to him but he didn't understand exactly; still, the sensation wasn't unpleasant.

He laved at her stomach, sampling darkness and perfume with every stroke of his tongue. The vibration of her moans went straight to his own groin and he leaned a little further over. The strangeness of this position was letting him actually feel in control of her and as he rested on his arms on either side of her he let his fingers trace over her waist.

Meg grumbled something and her fingers slipped to the waistband of his pants, undoing the knot there before he distracted her enough to stop her. Her own hips squirmed and he dropped further down the bed so he could nip at her breast through the thin shirt. Her nipples were hard under the lace and silk and he sank his teeth in a little to hear the new sounds she started to make. Her lips dragged against his stomach until his cotton scrubs got in the way and he pulled his hands down to the edge of the bed as he knelt on the floor at her head .

"Off," she snapped, pulling at his shirt impatiently. Castiel chuckled and pressed a kiss against her lips, feeling her teeth snatch at his mouth. His Grace rippled around him, rebelling against the darkness he was being seduced with, but like most things these days he ignored it in favour of feeling something he enjoyed. Her tongue stabbed into his mouth, the kiss in this position tricky and he enjoyed the skill it took. It focussed his mind and he drifted his hands down the comforter to comb through her hair. He pulled back and felt her nip at his lower lip.

When he opened his eyes, he was able to see her clear desire. "Am I doing this right?" he asked curiously. "Because I do need you to tell me."

She eyed him from upside down and he thought she looked a little annoyed.

Which meant their game might get even better.

"Castiel. You had better be joking."

"I'm being serious."

"So am I." She rolled over and looked at him. They were on level with one another and he saw the darkness in her eyes, the smoke lingering just under the surface. Meg flicked her tongue over her lower lip and she glared at him. Her mouth was swollen from their kiss and he wanted desperately to try it again. "If you don't get your ass moving on learning how to start this, I'm going to start without you and you do not get to participate this time."

His eyes widened and her sly grin was made more seductive when she propped her chin up in her hands. She tapped a finger against her lower lip and then licked it.

"So hop to it, Feathers or get left in the dust."

He muttered something under his breath before he disappeared into thin air, with a flutter of wings and cotton that left her surprised. Meg lifted her head a little, stared at the TV screen, and watched as it flicked off. The remote was still beside her elbow and she eyed it suspiciously. Castiel running away from her challenges was something new. Still, she knew that he was shy about this and her seducing him out of it was going to take a very long time.

Not any less fun though.

But she itched; from the top of her dark soul to the bottom of her black leather boots she burned and sizzled. The longer she stayed sprawled on the bed, her shirt pushed up to her armpits and her body almost humming, the more frustrated she felt. What the hell was he doing this time?

Oh, he had better not be getting distracted again.

The idea that the righteous prick was off eating a hamburger again — and he had done that before when she was just on the brink of a mind-blowing orgasm — started to trickle into her thoughts. Last time she had smeared honey on her nipples and instead of licking it off like she ordered, Castiel had lectured, actually lectured, her on the chemical composition of honey and its homeopathic uses. The thrill had been gone so she'd instead painted it all over him, turned him into a sticky mess, and then disappeared on him.

Grumbling that it was like fucking an inbred, brainless Labradoodle, Meg turned onto her hands and knees and got ready to shove away and out the door. She was soaking wet from their earlier kiss and she was not about to wait for him to figure out how to keep going with this. Her hunger was almost rippling through her and that he was so oblivious was intensifying it.

She raked her nails down the comforter and started to slide off the bed when Castiel's body hit her back. For a man as slim as he was, it felt like he weighed as much as building and her breath rushed out of her chest. Meg went flat on her stomach and arched her head back. Castiel's large hand sprawled on her back and he nipped at her shoulder as he settled against her.

"I think you wanted this faster, right?" he rumbled and she shuddered. He'd pulled off his shirt and she could feel the heat buzzing through him.

"Wouldn't hurt. You're like a goddamn snail, Clarence." He bit into her shoulder harder and she squirmed, raising her hips up at him. "Come on."

"Demons. So impatient. Must be your inferiority complex," he rasped and he tugged her hair back from her face. Meg muttered under her breath and felt his teeth shift on her skin as he spoke. "So I'm thinking we need to move this on."

"Tick… Tock. Come on, featherbrain. I don't have all night," the demon hissed and she tried to move her hips. His own pressed down on hers and kept her trapped. "The game is on a time limit, remember?"

"I remember."

His arm suddenly wrapped around her waist and he pushed her shirt up higher until it finally passed over her head. Groaning, she arched her back and whipped it off, tossing it onto his coat. His body pressed down on top of hers again now that the shirt was out of the way, keeping her flattened to the bed and she felt a little overwhelmed by the feathery sensation starting to drift over her skin. Whether it was his fingers or his Grace, she wasn't sure but times like this she didn't really care.

She shuffled back a little and Castiel's arm slipped around her waist again, plucking the buttons open before shoving her jeans and underwear to her knees. Squirming against his hold, she raised her head and turned a little to try to coax him to kiss her. But he was so singularly focussed on getting her naked that she knew even if she begged for a kiss, which she would never do, he'd ignore her.

It was probably better not to disturb her Crazy Cas when he finally focussed on something.

Meg almost screamed when his fingers suddenly slid directly between her thighs and plunged into her. Her body actually sucked and held onto his fingers and she dropped her head down to her hand, biting hard into her wrist. He'd bypassed any torturous foreplay and gone straight to the point. She'd be thrilled if she wasn't so ready to explode.

"I think I'm going to win," he drawled happily as he sat on the back of her thighs and watched her body twist under his fingers. He remembered this from last time, though the angles were different. The view was very different and he tilted his head to get a different perspective as he wiggled his fingers teasingly.

"Kinky bastard," Meg groaned and she dropped her head to the comforter. Her hands though reached as far behind her as she could and she grabbed hold of his waistband. Castiel chuckled and slipped his fingers out of her, dragging wetness down her thigh and then up the indent in her spine. Her hand grabbed his wrist and she pulled his fingers to her mouth, tasting herself on them as she bit and sucked at them. It made him shudder, his focus gone, and he pushed against her buttocks.

When he felt her other hand rake down his side so hard she left bloody scratches on his skin, he felt his wavering attention centralize on her body. Meg sucked on his thumb for a moment longer and then sank her teeth in so hard that she tasted blood. Castiel pulled his hand free even as he healed the injured digit, and she turned her head a little towards him.

Dark eyes glinted with satisfaction. "See? Better than Yahtzee."

He didn't even bother to groan an answer as her hand pushed his pants down lower on his hips. Her own legs were wedged together and trapped by her tight jeans and he shifted his weight to try to move between them. Whenever her hips shifted, he slipped tighter against her bared skin.

She arched her back and moved her knees as far apart as she could. "Still trying to win the game?" Meg murmured and her head turned a bit more. Castiel saw her face pulled into a pleased grimace as she rocked her hips back up to him. Her body was so tense that he could see every muscle in her back shaking from effort. He didn't answer her, just moved his hips enough that his cock nudged just inside of her.

Instantly his focus ruptured at the slick heat and he dropped his head to the spot between her shoulder blades. He was trying to keep her still but he wasn't sure he could stay still for so long. The biting grip of her body was too much to bear.

Meg panted for breath and she felt his own breath puffing against the back of her head. The TV and lamp lights were flickering with the power of his own emotions and she stretched her hands out beside her head, pleasure and anticipation making her clench around him. She was almost growling happily under his mouth as the angel traced the curve of her shoulders with his mouth. He wasn't even moving and she felt ready to blow.

And judging by the way he was shaking against her back, he wasn't too far behind.

"I… I don't like this position," he blurted out suddenly and she turned her head to press her cheek against the bed. He lingered at the corner of her vision and she stuck her tongue to the corner of her mouth thoughtfully.

"Really? I love it, Cas."

"I…"

"Mostly because I can feel you everywhere," she finished and he gave an odd sound. Castiel might be an angel but she was pretty certain that whatever sexuality those creatures had made them just as vulnerable at times when the right things were added to the mix. He liked words and touches as much as any human male would.

"But I like to see you. It…is the best part of the game," Castiel rasped against her neck and he shifted on her back, pressing his lips to her glistening skin. She stiffened a little under him but he was already lost, his focus so centred on touching her that he didn't notice the tension that went up her body. Meg debated on shoving him off her and making him remember that the poetry thing had to go.

But that wouldn't let her come and she did need him a bit too much at the moment .

His hand circled around her front and with a groan she slipped her own hands beneath her body, ready to push herself up to help him. Devilish fingers danced along her hip bones, caressing and teasing, getting so close to the perfect spot and she shuddered as he slipped deeper inside of her. He started to move against, more of a shallow thrust than anything but it was nearly enough It would be so easy…

The mood was almost completely ruined by the loud beep of a cellphone. It was coming from his coat and she stared at it. Castiel was ignoring it, his thrusts disjointed and his hands drifting down her body, but the beep had distracted her.

There were only two people, besides her, who would have that number.

Cock-blocking bastards! Even if she was using their rooms for her sex breaks, Meg irrationally knew that they were cock-blocking her on purpose.

Finally the beeping caught his attention and with a groan Castiel ripped it out of the coat. Meg shuddered, her body twitching with repressed tension, and put her forehead on the bed. She heard him murmur something under his breath and then his attention was gone from her. She couldn't expect anything else really; even if he was preaching non-violence, he still thought of himself as the Winchesters' shoulder angel.

But when he actually pulled out of her and rolled to his back against the pillows, she took offence to that.

"Dean? What's wrong? No… I'm… unoccupied."

With her pride and anger bristling, Meg sat up on the bed and debated on just leaving. It would serve him right because the raging hard on he had wasn't just going to go away by itself. Her eyes tracked over that gorgeous lean frame of his and she wondered if he'd come after her. Of course he would but it would take her forever to get him to the point where he would actually take what he wanted rather than waiting for her seduce him.

Her eyes went to the angel blade still implanted in the headboard and she quickly tore off her boots and jeans. It was a reminder just how far he'd come since they started fucking like this and the game wasn't over yet. The rules just needed to be changed. She chucked her one boot hard enough that it smashed the desk lamp.

"No… I've not thought about a poltergeist around you before. Why?" Castiel was whispering loudly. His voice was both distracted and pained and she crawled over him, swinging a leg slowly across his hips. The irony of him talking to Dean while dirtying up the hunter's own room was lost on the angel though the demon started to snicker. But the effect of her body pressing down on him wasn't lost on the rest of him, even if he had the focus of a cat with a laser pointer.

Meg leaned down to his ear. "For an angel, you are a dumb bastard," she growled softly. Castiel struggled to glare back at her. "Not to mention that you are losing the game."

He covered the receiver. "I am not," he whispered. Dean said something on the other end. "No, I'm still here. Where? Um… well I was watching some…"

Sitting on his chest, Meg spread her legs and ran her hand down her breasts. Her fingers curved around her nipples and his eyes almost bugged out.

"Bees and flowers."

He blurted that out but then he was closing his eyes. Essentially trying to block her out and she ground her teeth. Castiel clearly wanted Dean to think he was more bonkers than he really was and Meg normally didn't care. But she did care when she was being cock-blocked by both Dean and the angel.

She had things to do, after all.

Swivelling her legs to either side of his hips, Meg grabbed his cock in one firm hand and plunged herself down onto him. The sensation made her hiss and throw her head back, her mouth half-open. Castiel did a wonderfully high-pitched yelp of shock and bit into his arm to stop the moan that followed.

"CAS?!"

Even Meg heard that and she giggled as she started to roll her hips in a seductive rhythm. She lowered her chin and smiled down at him. He almost looked upset but when she did a swivel and grind he bit in his lower lip and almost begged her with his eyes.

"This is against the rules," Castiel hissed at her and she shrugged.

"You bent them first by picking up the fucking phone, featherbrain. Means I get something in forfeit." She lowered her head and ran her tongue over his chest, biting at his nipple. He made a pained sound that could be pleasure or pain.

"CAS?!"

"I'm still here. I'm in a … in a…in a…"

"Demon?" Meg whispered helpfully, grinning up at him while circling her hips. He almost slipped out of her and she slammed herself back down to keep him inside. Castiel glared at her again and she bit into his nipple again until it was as raw as he sometimes made hers.

"Movie theatre… uh… yeah… that one you told me to see a few years ago."

Meg rolled her eyes and straightened up over him, flinging her hair down her back.

"I just don't think a poltergeist is your problem. What ghost would care enough?" Castiel held the phone away from his mouth for a second and made an odd cross between a moan and a whine when Meg leaned back and grabbed him by the calves. It put her slender frame on perfect display and he stared dumbly as if he'd never seen her naked before. Her hips rose and fell over him and he let his eyes drift over her slowly. Dean's insistent voice drew him back. "No, I… what? I can't just pop over. I have bees to watch and…"

Grinning, Meg grabbed his hand and put it between her legs so he could feel the wetness leaking down her thighs.

"Honey to collect?" he whispered and she would have laughed if it didn't sound so good on his lips. His thumb drifted over her clit and she cried out, raking her other hand down his chest as her hips bucked.

"Cas…" she hissed, biting hard into her lower lip as the thumb drew patterns on her clit. Lost in her own thoughts and the pleasure humming through her body, Meg didn't notice when his face lost its mixture of slack-jawed lust and distracted jitteriness.

"What?" Castiel bit into his lower lip to stop the moan threatening to escape into the phone. Dean was already suspicious, he could hear it in his voice, and Meg's moans were growing louder, so much so that he didn't think he could block them if he tried. Meg's body was in a perfect arch above his and he continued to push his hips up to her shifting thrusts, feeling the sleek lines of her body whenever she twisted.

Then Dean's words really sunk in and he slapped the phone shut while the hunter was mid-sentence. Castiel sat up fast and he wrapped his other arm around her hips while pulling her chin down to him. The demon groaned in surprise when he forced her to stop. Her body shook his arms from the force of it and he squeezed her hips to keep her still.

"They are coming back."

Her eyes widened a little though her hips did a roll that he couldn't stop her from making. Meg licked her lower lip thoughtfully. "How far away?"

"Not far, if I can guess."

"Thank Hell for your little Dean GPS." She wriggled in his arms and he bit back a groan.

"We should leave."

"Not yet." She lowered her head and kissed his jaw line, her tongue drawing a line across his jugular. "You owe me."

His eyes fluttered as her hands slid down his chest, her nails tracking patterns on his tense stomach. "Game's not over?" he asked.

"Not by a long shot, Castiel." Meg nipped at his mouth, drawing him in for a kiss. Her lips slid seductively over his and he moaned, following the movement. Tongues stroking, he pushed his hand into her hair and tried to keep her still so he could deepen it. Her hips still rocked into his and she broke the kiss, panting. "But you've got a real time limit this time. This is the real deal, so show me what that practice taught you. What can you do?"

Something in her teasing voice seemed to bring a cloud over his eyes and for a moment the old Castiel was back, not just the shadows of the warrior there always was. Their eyes locked and out of reflex she swallowed and pulled her hands back from his stomach. His eyes dropped to her mouth and then his hand tightened into her hair. He wrenched her head back and exposed her throat.

There was something, Meg figured, that made this version of Castiel her absolutely favourite.

He flipped her around him, pressing her into the mattress with a soft growl. She landed hard on her back, sinking into sheets made wet by their sweat, but none of it mattered when he grabbed her one leg and shoved it back towards her shoulder. Something popped and cracked but she didn't care because he was thrusting back into her so hard she bit her tongue. His dark hair brushed her cheek as his head dropped against her neck and she cried out when his hips did a brutal shove. Her world sparked and spun and she clung to his body.

"Trying to… make me…feel it… in the morning?" she hiccuped out and the hand in her hair yanked hard. She raked her nails down his back and he laughed coarsely. This favourite version of her Castiel made the demon want to explode.

"I want to win this game," he answered. Wriggling, Meg stared up at him wide-eyed as he moved harder into her. She felt trapped with her leg pressed between them and Meg realized she had only accounted for one hand. The other was drifting over her breasts and stomach in a slow caress that contrasted the rough movements. Castiel's thrusts were so jarring that she was glad she was shamelessly wet or she'd be damned sore and bleeding when this was over. Her teeth actually clicked together and her head bumped the bed's headboard now and again.

It was just so perfect that she could only wrap herself tighter around him and pray to a God she hated that it wouldn't stop.

His teeth raked down her throat and she heard their harmonized moans over the heavy breathing in her ear. He was going to win, she thought fuzzily but it was probably time that he did. He seemed so focussed, truly focussed, and so centred on her that she actually wanted him to win. Something curved around his back and covered her fingers and she touched Grace. It singed her fingers but she didn't mind the pain this time.

Not when her body was exploding in every direction with ridiculous heat and pressure. Meg grabbed his head and forced his lips to meet hers, sucking his tongue into her mouth, and his hand left her breast to slam into the headboard behind her head. The wood splintered at the impact and the bed made a loud groan in protest. Neither noticed.

Large hands were suddenly everywhere on her, feathery touches that contrasted the rough thrusts and punishing rolls of the hips, and she pushed her mouth up harder into his when a climax tore through her body like torture. She screamed into his mouth and sank her teeth into his lower lip, tasting a hot spurt of blood that scalded her tongue. Her body spasmed and clenched with an intensity that sent her spiralling out of control. Castiel's own cry was drowned out by her scream as his body hunched deeper into hers and he moved against her as her legs curled around his hips. He didn't care that his back was scratched raw and bloody. His mind was suddenly centred on losing himself in the tiny demon underneath him.

For a brief moment, what they were and the game they were playing didn't matter.

* * *

"Jesus! Not again!"

Dean threw his drink on the floor and kicked a chair out of his way. Gingerly, Sam picked his way through the doorway and groaned when he saw the condition of the motel room. Dean had been pretty certain that Castiel would meet them up and tell them about the ghost. If the ghost existed.

And judging by the condition of the room, it probably did. They were still missing an angel as well and the mystery of their motel rooms was likely going to remain unsolved.

Dean reached over and flicked on the main light. The coned wall lights were burnt out though one crackled a few times before giving up entirely. The TV was stuck on white noise and fuzzy pictures, and eventually it took seemed to just die. Dean shook his head in disgust when he tried to take a few deep breaths to calm himself down.

"It stinks in here again."

Sam was staring at the bed. At his bed. Which looked wrecked. Again.

"Shit."

The headboard was splintered with a massive hole burned into its centrepiece. There were deep scratch marks that ruined the sheets and it almost looked slept in. Throwing his take-out bag on the bedside table, Sam sat down and immediately sprang back up.

"It's soaked!"

Dean shook his head. "We're going to have to see if Cas knows what's going on. He still sounds loopy but I'm sure even he could tell us what's up."

Sam made a disgusted face. "Better be soon. I'm getting tired of sleeping on the floor."

They were both grumbling so loudly that they didn't notice the ziploc of honey that still sat on the desk


End file.
